


Business as Usual

by sksdwrld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackmail, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, F/M, It would so never happen like that, Loss of Virginity, Sexual Coercion, forgive my shitty writing, this was one of my earlier fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:58:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco helps save Harry Potter from imminent death.  All he asks in return is a little bit of Hermione Granger's time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business as Usual

No one would ever be able to recount with one-hundred percent accuracy exactly how it happened that warm day in September of their final year; how one moment the three of them were sitting atop the wall that lined the precipice, as they had a thousand times before, and how the next, Harry Potter was dangling from the edge, suspended only by the tight grip on his arms, from his friends Hermione and Ron.

Hermione shrieked and the both of them struggled to keep a hold of Harry’s twisting body. He looked to the rocks far below, and felt himself start to panic. No broom and no wand spelled sudden death for certain if his friends were unable to come to his rescue, as they had so many times before.

“Pull, Hermione!” Ron commanded, bracing his foot against the wall and leaning backward. Hermione was already doing the same, to no avail. She had but a fleeting moment to give him a look of exasperation before Harry’s voice floated back over the edge.

“Whatever you do, don’t let go!” The cadence of his voice pitched and wavered in a way that the two had never heard before.

“If I could only reach my wand…” she murmured to herself, eyes scanning the grounds before her. And then… “Malfoy! Help!”

 

Malfoy had been making his rounds of the area alone, questionably deep in thought, seemingly unnoticing of the situation unfolding before him. There was a characteristic sneer on his face when he turned to acknowledge the shrill voice that summoned him.

“Well, if it isn’t Granger and Weasel….whatever could you be up to now that would make you think I had any desire to help you? And what in God’s name are the two of you playing at? Looks like you’re trying to haul a dead hippogriff…..” as he stepped closer and peered over the edge, his face broke out into a smirk. “Oh….it’s Potter.” Malfoy folded his arms across his chest and stepped away from the edge. “Carry on then,”

“Malfoy!” Hermione implored. “You’ve got to help us, or he’ll die. I can’t reach my wand…couldn’t you just-“

“A betterment for all of society I think. Best to cut your losses and move on then. A shame it wasn’t Potter and the Weasel both then…..” Malfoy sneered, unfolding his arms and toying with the tip of his want.

Ron shot him a dirty look, as he struggled with the growing weight of his dangling friend. “Malfoy, if you don’t help us, and Harry dies, I swear to Merlin I will kill you myself!”

Malfoy looked bored, and continued to flex his wand against his hand. “Oh, I don’t know, Weasley. I think you have neither the gut nor the skill involved to do such a thing…..Although….Granger, I may be willing to strike a bargain with you,” His eyes moved to her and a dark grin played over his features. “Your….services for a month, in exchange for Potter’s life? A win-win for you, really…..” 

Ron gaped at him, and unthinkingly reached for his wand with one hand. “I’ll kill you now!” Hermione shrieked as her body lurched against the wall. “RON!” she screamed. And Ron was already turning back to Harry who was now grasping Hermione’s hands with both of his. Ron slung his arms around her waist to stop her from going over the edge too.

“A touching scene, really….” Malfoy intoned, smirking at all of them. “What say you, Granger?”

“Hermione!” cried Harry from below.

“Yes, alright, anything! Just help us, please!” Hermione, struggling to keep Harry from plummeting to his death, hadn’t even heard the terms of the agreement.

“Well, if I must….” Draco pointed his wand toward them lazily. “Corpus Leviosum!”

Harry took on a sudden weightlessness, and the two of them were able to reel him back over the wall. On safe ground, Harry hugged Ron and Hermione to his chest, panting. “Thought I was a goner for sure…”

Draco looked suddenly sullen again, and tucked his wand into the inner pocket of his blazer, then brushed off the lapels and sleeves as if he had dirtied himself. “Well, then Granger….Slytherin Common room at eight, tonight…don’t be late.” As he turned to depart, Ron struggled away from them and toward Malfoy, his face as red as his hair, and eyes glittering in anger. 

“Ron!” Hermione reached for him in vain. But her cry was enough of a warning that Malfoy easily side-stepped the attempted tackle, and let the red-head’s momentum carry him into the cobblestones and dust at his feet.

“Born in the dirt, live in the dirt, and die in the dirt, I always say”. Malfoy’s sneering face peered over Ron for but a moment, before disappearing behind a prima-donna like pirouette that carried him away from the scene altogether. The trio of friends was left gaping at each other in his wake.

 

 

Ron was pacing in consternation in the Gryffindor common room, as Harry tried to talk him down. Hermione had returned to her room to look for another one of her textbooks. Although slightly confused, she was flattered that Malfoy has bargained for her tutoring services. Ron slapped himself in the forehead. "Harry, with all those brains, how can she NOT realize that that bloody git Malfoy is not interested in extra help with transfigurations? I have to warn her. We can't just let her find out from Malfoy this way!"

"I don't know, Ron," Harry’s brow furrowed. "It's rough news to take either way, and frankly, I'd rather let her take it out on Malfoy than on us. She might be able to get him to retract it if she badgers enough...."  
"Doubt it," Ron mumbled as Hermione flounced past with an arm load of books. She looked a bit flustered, but not nearly as much as they anticipated she'd be when she returned.   
"Well, I'm off to Slytherin then...." She shifted her books in her arms, and then shrugged. Ron and Harry exchanged looks.

“Hermione…” Ron started…but couldn’t finish. He shook his head helplessly, blushed, then retreated towards his room. Harry looked from Hermione, to the direction Ron had stormed off in, then hurried to follow.

 

 

Millicent Bulstrode was waiting by the dungeons to escort Hermione into the Slytherin common room. She rolled her eyes at the stack of books and barely controlled her look of contempt before deserting Hermione with a grunt. A sea of Slytherin eyes rolled toward her, and narrowed as if on cue. She squirmed under the pressure, and the few moments it took for Crabbe to appear seemed like forever. “Draco will see you now,” he reported with a leering look, gesturing for her to follow. He directed her wordlessly into Draco’s private quarters, and deposited her there with a final snicker, closing the door behind him. 

Hermione could only see the back of his blonde head, cocked to one side as he scrawled on parchment with a feathered pen. “Malfoy,” she regarded him lowly.

“In a moment, Granger. You’re only one of my many obligations,” He settled the pen down, and spun slowly in his chair to face her. Then his angular face broke into a wide grin. “Well bloody hell, you’ve brought half the library with you….What in God’s name did you think were going to do?”

Her forced smile faltered. “You bartered for my services…..tutoring?” she offered, turning to drop the pile of books on the stand beside her. “I wasn’t sure which subject, so I brought them all,”

“Oh, that’s bloody brilliant….” He snickered, standing and unfastening his neck tie, hurling it sideways into the corner. Then he hunched his shoulders, pulling his sweater vest over his head before discarding it carelessly on the floor beside him.

Hermione frowned in confusion and took a step backward. “Malfoy, what are you doing?”

“Really?” He stopped, and took a long look at her. “And I thought you were the brains of that group,” he replied snidely. “I saved Potter’s measly life in exchange for your sexual services, my dear mud-blood, not for your bloody tutoring skills,”

Hermione paled, then flushed, and stammered, without forming words. Draco’s fingers moved and deftly began unbuttoning his own shirt. “Well get on with it then, I don’t have all night you know. There’s an exam in potion’s tomorrow….”

Hermione averted her eyes, and backed up again, until her shoulders hit the door behind her. “No, I mean, I just…I can’t…..Malfoy surely you didn’t mean….”

“I meant what I said and said what I meant, Granger. A deal is a deal, so don’t bother trying to bugger out of it,”

“B-b-b-b-but….” She stammered, grasping for anything. “What could you possibly want with a filthy mud-blood like me? Isn’t there someone else you’d rather spend your time with?”

“Really, Granger,” Malfoy shrugged out of his shirt, letting it slip down into a heap on top of the vest. “It’s not any worse than father sticking it to the house elves….in fact, I’d go as far as to say you might even be a step up from that…” he smirked at her when her mouth dropped open in horror. “And I can guarantee you’re in for a quality time. I’m not entirely selfish…” He crossed to her, took her chin between his forefinger and thumb and tilted her face to him. She wouldn’t look at him, and squinched her eyes shut tightly. Her face and neck were flushed clean down to her softly heaving breasts, which were covered demurely with a maroon cardigan with gold embellishments.

“Malfoy, please…” she whispered.

He lowered his face so that his lips were next to hers, his hand still grasping her chin, body only the barest hair from grazing hers. “Please, what?” He mumbled.

Hermione could smell him now, a clean, spicy scent, wafting off his warm, pale skin. She could feel his leanness, his litheness, and his desire exuding from him the way Luna Lovegood oozed crazy; and it was like someone flipped a switch in her. One hand moved away from its balled position against the door, moving to his hip, and she gave a shallow sigh. This was all the consent Malfoy needed, and then he was on her, their bodies pressed together, mouths sucking at one another, tongues like dueling wands. They both felt the spark that passed between them when they touched, and neither could tell which was more surprised.

It was Draco who broke the kiss, drawing in a sharp breath, then reaching with both hands to yank open her cardigan. Some of the gold buttons popped off his chest before hitting the floor. He did the same with the wrinkled, white button up she wore beneath. 

Hermione panicked a moment, and clutched the ends together. “What’re you-“she breathed.

“Shut up,” he interrupted, pushing her hands away easily, and pulling the two shirts together down past her shoulders and over her forearms. He sloppily shoved her bra upward on her chest, freeing her breasts, which he handled roughly as he swooped back in to latch on her mouth. It was Hermione who shrugged out of the remnants of her top and unfastened the bra. And then her hands were tearing at his belt and pulling at the trousers. He pushed her hard against the door, deftly unbuttoning her pants with one hand while he squeezed a hardened nipple with the other. She kicked the pants away from her feet while his fingers scrabbled at the damp crotch of her panties.

“Oh, God….” She groaned, her hands traveling up his muscled back. Malfoy was still thin, but more sinewy than she thought he’d be, hiding a quidditch-toned body under those wizarding robes….

“I’m flattered, but you can call me Malfoy,” he breathed in her ear, before nipping her earlobe, and sucking her neck.

“Malfoy!” she breathed in response. Draco gripped her by the shoulders, whirled her around, and gave her a hard shove toward the bed. He clambered on top of her, pushing her legs apart. Hey eyes grew large and she protested. “Wait!”

“I can’t wait,” he grunted as she put her hands to his chest, holding him back, searching for his face, trying to meet his eyes.

“I just….it’s only that-,”

“Shut up!” he hissed, lifting her hips and pushing hard into her moist wetness. She gave a loud cry and the both of them stiffened. “Fuck! You’re a virgin?” he almost looked concerned as he tried not to buck into her.

Hermione’s eyes were squinched tight again. “Not anymore….” But she didn’t push him away again, and when one hand moved up to cup his neck, he knew it was alright. Not that he really cared, he told himself. Only it would be an awful mess to sort out if he had to visit Snape and beg for a memory-loss potion.

It wasn’t long before he was really rutting into her. Her finger nails dug into his back and thighs, leaving long, red tracks in their wake. Finally, he felt her shudder against him and sigh, her whole body relaxing almost immediately. He plowed into her a few more times, then spent his seed, shuddering silently above her. Almost immediately, he rolled away, turning his back to her as he sat on the edge of the bed and fumbled in his bed-side drawer for a cigarette. There was a long silence between them, and then Hermione reached a hand toward him. “Draco…”

He peeled away from her hand as if it were an acid burn. “Malfoy.” He corrected coldly. “You call me ‘Malfoy’. Only my friends call me “Draco’,” There was a look of sheer confusion on her face. “You should leave,” he informed her, gesturing to door with his glowing cigarette end. She stared blankly at him for a moment, and then got up, angrily collecting her things, pulling her tattered clothes around her. She fumbled with her wand, and couldn’t seem to get the words out to fix them.

“Reparo,” Draco intoned, with a flick of his wand. “Now get out,”

Hermione couldn’t help the hurt look that crossed her face. “Draco Malfoy, you are one cold bastard, and I hope that you-“her words were barely audible as she pulled open the door. He interrupted her one last time.

“Granger, that wasn’t half bad…for a filthy mud-blood….see you tomorrow, at eight,”

She gave a strangled cry, and slammed the door shut behind her so hard it rattled on its hinges. As she stormed back through the common room, those within turned to look at her, smirks and sneers following her until Pansy Parkinson vocalized from a black leather bound chair in one corner, “Unh, unh, unh, unh, unh!” Then the room erupted in laughter and howls, and pointed fingers followed her to the main door, which she slammed with equal ferocity.

A moment later, Malfoy strode through the room, buttoning his shirt quickly. “Granger, wait!” A well placed foot from Pansy sent him toppling ass-over-teakettles and he landed face first with a smack. The laughter died down almost immediately.

“Don’t forget where your loyalties lie, Draco,” she warned coolly. His pale face was now colored scarlet, and he pushed himself up slowly, the anger suffusing through him. A thick rivulet of blood snaked down the left side of his nose and dripped off his chin, spotting the front of his shirt. He wiped his face with one hand, smearing sticky red wetness across delicate features. He grasped Pansy’s blazer lapel with the same hand. “Don’t you forget who I am, Pansy,” he growled through clenched teeth. “If you weren’t a girl, I’d- “

“Oh please Draco….” She waved him away. “And go take care of your face; you’re starting to look like Potter….”

 

Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common room with a stony silence. The angry words she had mumbled to herself stopped as soon as there were others within ear shot. Harry and Ron stood simultaneously and started toward her. She stopped them with a wave of her hand. “Leave me alone!” and continued to her room, slamming the door for good measure. The other Gryffindor’s stared around at each other a moment, then shrugged and continued their conversations. Hermione threw herself face down on the bed, and screamed into her pillow until her voice was hoarse. Draco Malfoy was without a doubt, the most beastly person on the planet. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected from the encounter, or why she seemed so surprised about the way it had ended. Malfoy only looked out for number one, and stomped on anyone else within close proximity.

There was a loud crack, and Dobby the house-elf appeared with a heavy bundle of books. He wavered there a moment, barely able to see over the top of the stack and Hermione moved to her feet to take the things from him.

“Dobby is sorry to interrupt Miss Hermione, but the horrid Draco Malfoy sendsis her a gift,”

“Thank you Dobby,” she said, forcing a smile as she shoved the books onto her dresser. A scrap of paper slipped from the top, to the floor. She bent to retrieve it, and scanning it quickly, frowned. Malfoy was certainly the most patronizing human being on the planet. “That will be all for now,”

Dobby looked like he wanted to say more, but the look on her face must have quelled him. He gave an awkward sort of smile and disappeared with another loud crack.

 

 

At breakfast the next morning, the Gryffindor table was exceptionally quiet. Finally, Ron broke the silence. “Hermione, what do you keep pulling out of your pocket?” She looked up guiltily, flushed, and stuffed it back in her pocket.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Are you ready for the potions exam today?”

Ron had just stuffed half a scone in his mouth at once, and his eyes grew wide. “Is that a CRIB SHEET, for POTIONS?” A spray of crumbs shot across the table.

“Of course it’s not you bloody git,” she snapped at him, then started to tell him she was sick of seeing the half chewed food falling out of his mouth every meal time. But there was an eruption of hoots and hollers from the Slytherin table that made them all turn to look.

Draco Malfoy had just entered the room, later than usual, and looking upset. He kept smoothing his shock of white-blonde bangs down over his forehead, instead of shoveling them backward like usual. 

“Well if it isn’t Draco Potter himself!” Pansy announced with a grin, and the table laughed again. Draco planted himself down silently without so much of a sideways glance to any of them. The ribbing continued until he suddenly stood, face colored darkly.

“Sod-off you bloody lot!” But it was he who turned on his heel and left, long strides carrying him back out of the room quickly.

“What d’you think that was about?” Ron asked, swallowing thickly and looking from Harry to Hermoine. Just then, Neville slid into a seat beside the trio with a grin.

“Did any of you see Malfoy?” he smiled nervously at them, because he had only seen him as he shoved him out of the way in the corridor. “He must have walked into a door or something, because he’s got a huge gash on his forehead, right where your scar is Harry!”

Ron and Harry looked to eachother, then to Hermione. “Did you-“ Harry started to ask her. But she was pushing herself away from the table. 

“NO! And…..I’ve…got to go…study…” She disappeared in a flash, a small square of crumpled paper floating down to rest on her chair. Harry snatched it up to examine it, but there was nothing on the paper itself except a punctuated dash, followed by a very large scripted “D” and a long squiggly line. He frowned in confusion. Maybe it was spelled….

 

Hermione was unusually quiet over the next few days, but didn’t seem overly perturbed either. She didn’t return to the Slytherin common room, and went out of her way to avoid Malfoy more than usual. Harry and Ron were concerned, but she downplayed everything, telling them she had a lot of studying to do. Malfoy, on the other hand, leered at her every chance he got. Following the second day that she had refused to show up, he crossed the room, and leaned over the table, bracing his arms between platters of food. Hermione immediately turned, and began a loud conversation with Lavender beside her. Malfoy scowled and looked to Ron and Harry. “Tell your friend that we had a deal, and if they don’t make good on it, I can arrange for the situation that started it all, to repeat itself, Got me, Potter?”

He gulped and nodded. Hermione pretended not to notice.

 

The following day, Hermione was walking down the hall, while an excited Luna Lovegood chattered at her rapidly. As they walked past one of the large statues, someone caught her elbow and yanked her behind it. Luna kept walking and talking for a good ten paces before she realized Hermione was missing, but turned her head and continued chattering to whoever it was that had the unfortunate circumstance of coming up beside her. Hermione turned and scowled to see it was Malfoy who had her arm.

“What do you want?”

“ ‘A ghastly beast… the world’s most selfish prat…. a bloody wanker’” He recited a portion of the conversation she’d started with Lavender at dinner the night before. “Is that what you really think of me, mud-blood?” he didn’t give her a chance to respond before dipping her head and capturing her mouth with his. After a long snog, she pushed him back against the statue.

“I gave you something special, Malfoy, and you threw it in my face. So you can just sod off for all I care!” Her face was flushed pink.

He caught her wrist before she could flee. “I know. Give me a chance to make it up to you, ”

“Is that an apology?”

“Come to my room tonight,” he breathed, pulling her against him again.

“So everyone can laugh at me again?”

“They laughed at me too,” he pushed his bangs away from his face to show a scabbed over gash, not more than an inch long, smack in the center of his forehead.

She reached her fingertips to the wound, and frowned. “But I didn’t-“

“Pansy-“ he started to explain.

“Alright, break it up or it will be detention for the both of you!” Filch interrupted, poking them from behind the statue with the end of his broom. Hermione used the chance to move away from him, down the hall. But she turned once, and he was still in the same spot.

‘Tonight!’ He mouthed at her, and pointed to his watch.

At ten of eight, Hermione was still perched on the edge of her bed, staring at the door, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Then, against her better judgment, she found herself slipping into her shoes, and stealing down the corridor. It was Malfoy himself who was waiting for her, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. The burgeoning moonlight splayed across him from a nearby window, accenting the sour expression on his face. “You’re late,” he intoned, in a very Snape-like fashion as he leant away from the wall. Hermione felt her heart fall again. Here was business-as-usual Malfoy.

“I’m here,” she shrugged breathlessly. 

He looked at her impassively a moment, then took her by the wrist. “I have more important things to do with my time than wait for a gormless scrubber like you ….Atropa Belladonna,” he addressed the bare wall before them. It swung open for admittance and he tugged her through into an empty common room.

“Where is everyone?” Hermione asked with soft surprise.

A smug look rolled over his features. “I made it worth their whiles to disappear for a bit.”

Her heart was banging like a drum in her chest as they neared his bedroom. He ushered her inside, and cast the silencing spell that would prevent others from listening to any happenings within.

“Malfoy,” Hermione said softly, reaching a hand up to his face, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. For a moment, his eyes closed, and his head canted into her touch. Then he regained himself, and turned away. She pursued him, wrapping his arms around his lean torso from behind, pressing her breasts against his back. He let himself be held, but made no moves to reciprocate. After a long moment, her hands began to roam as if they had a will of their own; under his vest, over the shirt at first, then bunching and pulling the tails from his pants so she could feel his skin with her fingertips. At the first touch, he sucked in a breath deeply, as if he’d been holding it. Malfoy shifted his stance and leaned back against her, his head falling back against her shoulder. Up his torso, pinch the nipples, back down to the hips. When they reached the tent in his pants, he groaned loudly, arching into her hands while he fumbled with his belt. She pulled away from him and turned her back, pulling her sweater over her head. He copied her earlier embrace now, but his hands went straight to her breasts, pulling the nipples tight between his fingers and thumbs, erection pressing into the curve of her bum. He sucked the curve of her neck while pinching and rolling her hardened nipples. Hermione thought she was going to melt into the floor.

“Take your pants off,” he commanded lowly in her ear. She was quick to oblige and sent trousers and panties floor-ward. Malfoy hissed lowly when she backed into his throbbing cock. He could take her now, again. But he wouldn’t, he wanted it to last longer this time. He grasped her hips and walked her forward, bending Hermione and propping her arms on the foot of the bed. Then he reached into the moist slit between her legs, and found the throbbing nodule at its crest. She mewled softly and worked her hips against his hand.

Malfoy couldn’t help but smile to himself. For a talkative, know-it-all, mud-blood, muggle, she was damnably hot. And the way she was so overly excited by his touch was an ego-stroking turn-on. Soon, he had her panting his name, repeatedly. He tangled his hand in her hair, and pulled back gently. “Tell me what you want,”

“I w-want you,” she said softly. He could see the tops of her ears begin to color.

“How?”

She was quiet a long moment, and he gave a slow stroke to her clit. She shuddered. “…inside me, now….please, oh God,”

His grin grew wider and he directed his throbbing length into her, slowly, his stride matching his slow finger play in the front. She thrust her ass back against his pelvis and he clenched his teeth.

“Ah, fuck, Granger, you’re so hot….” He was trying hard not to just ram in into her over and over. He liked it rough, but he’d already destroyed her the first time. In a moment, he felt her tight walls clamping down on him repeatedly. When she was finished, he pushed her lower on the bed, then grabbed both of her hips tightly and pistoned into her. He slowed just before he reached his own peak, driving hard and slow for a minute or so. Think of something horrid. He told himself, slow down, this is too fast…something horrid… Potter! Potter, Potter, Potter…oh hell, it’s useless. He pumped into her so hard, he nearly toppled the both of them over. And when he was done, he tumbled them both onto the bed, pulling her tight against him. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent deeply, caressing her stomach with one hand.

“Malfoy,” Hermoine began, reaching for his hand, But when she did, it was as if a spell had been broken. He tensed, withdrew, and turned away, dragging his pants from the crumpled heap on the floor, then stuffing his legs in unceremoniously. She watched him trying to stuff the hurt feelings down inside of her. He lit another cigarette, and turned toward her, torso still suffused a flushed red from their exertions.

“Don’t look at me like that Granger,” the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth while he re-strung his belt She knew the look on her face had betrayed her. . He sucked deeply, then blew a cloud of smoke out just over her head. He offered her one, knowing she’d decline. That damn goody two-shoes….although, maybe not…he smirked recounting their actions. “You can lay there as long as you like, but I trust you can see yourself to the door on your own, and don’t go leaving anything behind this time. Those damnable little house-elves freak me out,” He shrugged back into his shirt, but didn’t bother buttoning it.

Hermione scowled at him and sat up. Fire and Ice. There was something better inside of Malfoy, but he was too afraid to unleash it. He watched her while she dressed, from across the room, splayed in his desk chair like some sort of play boy.

“Granger,” He said again when she reached the door. “Tomorrow?”

“At eight,” She replied with a grimace. A wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded once, then turned to the desk.

 

 

And so it continued in this fashion; during the day Malfoy and Hermione avoided each other as per the norm, and every night thereafter, met without prompting. This being with the single exception of the time Draco absentmindedly caressed her backside while the two of them were standing side by side, collecting materials in potions class. Hermione dropped an entire vial of troll semen, and was punished with a full evening of detention with Professor Snape.

Ron was visibly upset by Hermione’s willingness to visit Malfoy’s chambers on a nightly basis, and they had a terrible row about it one evening upon her return. After Hermione accused him of being ‘ a bloody, fat headed, boring, ginger, sot’, and he replied that she had ‘turned into a walking snatch with two faces’, no one brought it up again. 

Harry and Ron took to playing wizards chess in the evenings, just to avoid the uncomfortable situation altogether. Harry found it difficult to watch the devolution of Hermione, feeling it was entirely, somehow, his fault. Every now and then, Malfoy would catch his eye, and give a sly smile and a nod, as if to say ‘Thanks mate, if you hadn’t been such a clumsy bugger, I wouldn’t be sticking it to your best friend every night’. But of course, he never dared to make such a vocalization.

Hermione and Draco had taken to meeting in the room of requirement, or sometimes Moaning Myrtles bathroom, as there was equal resentment from the Slytherin group to their pairing. Their first moments together were always an explosion of pent-up tensions, with rough fumbling hands, sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and pistoning hips. Hermione realized soon enough that Malfoy was easily coaxed into a second or third round of affections, in which he was more than accommodating to her. She also learned that afterward, he would often spoon her from behind, his face buried in her hair or neck, but if she spoke, or moved too much, he would return to his usual self and kick her out. If she was still long enough, he would disengage and dress slowly, with his back turned to her as if he were embarrassed, but then offer an awkward sort of smile before he slipped away.

 

“You owe me four more days, still,” Malfoy panted into her ear, as he pounded into her against the wall, her legs around his waist. “You didn’t show those first days, and then the detention…”

“You selfish prat,” she groaned lowly.

“Filthy mud-blood….” Was his response. These had become their pet-names for one another, and served as much as consent, as any other.

 

On their final evening, there were no special arrangements or goodbyes, the both of them dressed as usual and returned to their rooms. There was an unspoken hope between them that the arrangement might continue. Malfoy was mildly surprised and amused when Hermione passed him a note the day after their obligations were over, indicating her sudden opening in availability, should he need a tutor in any subject. The affair continued into late November.

 

This particular evening, in the room of requirement, it was Malfoy who spoke first after they had finished. “There can never be anything more than this,” it was a sad sort of voice than emitted from him, partially muffled by her hair.

“What is this, then?” she asked softly.

“A tryst. An affair. A….a hobby,” he swallowed thickly.

Hermione fought the urge to laugh. But it would only have been nervous laughter. “Fucking, plain and simple,” she said as-a-matter-of-fact.

“Yes,” he agreed, cupping her breasts and pressing against her behind. “Granger, you and I are different creatures, from different places, with different destinies. There…isn’t anything in store for us…together,”

She felt a sudden annoyance, but wasn’t sure if it was because she thought there could be more between them, or because he was alluding that there might have been, but never would be.

“What are you playing at Malfoy?”

That did it. He stiffened and withdrew from her. “Nothing.” Words dripped with ice. He dressed quickly while she watched. “Tomorrow….I….I think I’m busy.” 

Hermione was still scraping her jaw off the floor while he slipped out and quickly down the hallway.

 

The next morning, Hermione was convinced Malfoy would retract his statement, until she rounded the corner and came into the great hall for breakfast. Pansy Parkinson was sitting on Malfoy’s lap, smoothing his hair and kissing his neck. When she caught Hermione looking at them, she gave a broad, gloating smile. Malfoy looked miserable, but then, Malfoy always looked miserable, when he wasn’t being smug about something.

Hermione had stopped dead in her tracts, and couldn’t move, until Pansy shouted at her from across the room, “Granger, you’re holding up the line! Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer!” The Slytherin table laughed, and at last, Hermione’s feet could move again. They carried her straight back out of the hall, and she was intent on going back to her room, when she ran into Harry and Ron.

“Erm, ‘Mione, the food is that way,” Ron pointed widely.

“That Dog faced Pansy Parkinson!” She exploded, fingers curling and clenching into tight fists. “Why couldn’t it have been anyone but her?”

Harry put an arm around her shoulders. “Hermione, what are you talking about?”

“Pansy and Malfoy!”

“Don’t worry, they’ll make ugly babies,” Ron said in consolation.

She shot him an icy look, stomped her foot, and made a loud noise of frustration, before storming away. Later, after realizing that Hermione had missed two classes in a row, they went back to the dormitory, to find she had locked herself in her room, and broken nearly every shatter-able object within.

“That’s a Malfoy-caliber tantrum if I ever saw one!” Ron remarked lowly to Harry, who only nodded and bit his lip.

But, the weeks went by, and things seemed to settle down. At 8 each night, Hermione would become visibly unsettled, and Ron and Harry had taken to walking with her through the hallways, or engaging her in some other simple distraction. Ron never did have the courage to tell Harry to piss off, hoping Hermione might have propositioned him if they had been alone.

 

It was the final trip to Hogsmeade before the winter break. Nearly all of the 7th year students were going, and there was much jostling and camaraderie. Hermione could see Draco from the corner of her eye, well dressed as usual in black, his wool coat well-fitted to his slender form, a charcoal scarf tucked around his neck and into the front of his jacket like an ascot. He happened to look up at that moment, and their eyes met. Hermione felt a sudden dampness that hadn’t been there for weeks (that seemed like months).

“Come on, Hermione!” Harry took her elbow, and she looked to him. When she looked back, Draco had been encircled by a group of Slytherin students.

 

The trio of friends were enjoying a round of butterbeer on Harry, when Hermione spied Draco again, this time alone, hands in his pockets as he strolled the street. She pushed her mug aside, got up, and without a word, went to meet him. Ron scowled and rolled his eyes. Harry shrugged and dipped a finger in his beer, swirling it absently.

 

Malfoy didn’t seem to notice Hermione at all, until she was nearly on top of him. She grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him aside with her.

“What do you want, Granger?” He sneered, jerking out of her grasp and brushing the sleeve as if she had sullied it.

“You know what I want Malfoy. And I think you want it too,”

He glanced over both shoulders, then behind her. Taking her arm, he led her down a cluttered alley.

“If Pansy sees us…”

She scowled. “Bloody Pansy can sod off,”

“She threatened to tell my father,”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re a mudblood,” he hissed as if she were stupid. “Malfoy’s do not sully themselves, or their family line, with mudbloods,”

Hermione scowled, then pouted. “Sully yourself with me, just one last time, then…we… didn’t get to say goodbye….” She fingered his lapels, then moved in to kiss him.

He pushed her away lightly. “Not here, in this disgusting alley, where anyone could see us. Mother of God, Granger, are you daft?”

“Where then?”

 

By the time Hermione returned, Ron was ranting and raving nearly at the top of his lungs, while Harry tried to calm him down. She slipped into her seat, looking contrite, and resumed sipping her butterbeer.

“See, now then Ron, you silly git!” Harry clapped him on the back. “She wasn’t gone nearly long enough for them to do anything!”

Ron’s eyes just about bugged out of his head.

“HARRY!”

 

Hermione badgered Harry until he agreed to let her use his cloak of invisibility. She reminded him that everything that had happened this semester was because of him clumsiness in the first place. Harry handed it to her with a scowl. “I don’t think you should meet Malfoy anymore,”

“Who’s going to meet Malfoy?” She smiled, twirling the cloak about her shoulders. “I’m going to the restricted section of the library,”

“I’ll come with you then,” Harry called her bluff.

She snorted. “You just keep your mouth shut, Potter, and we won’t have any issues,” as soon as she said it, she clapped her hand over her mouth, looking surprised.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry! I don’t know where that came from,”

“I do,” he shook his head. “This thing with Malfoy has to stop,”

“Don’t worry,” she mumbled almost inaudibly. 

 

Hermione found her way back to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, but the password had been changed since her last excursion there. She had to wait until someone departed before she could gain entrance. She was happy to see that someone was Pansy Parkinson, and she knew that she would be able to make it to Malfoy’s room uninterrupted. She let herself in, and closed the door, performing both a silencing, and a locking spell. Nothing was going to come between them this night, until she was ready for it to be over.

Draco was at his desk, back turned to her. He didn’t spin around to greet her as he usually did. In fact, he was utterly silent. She let the cloak drop, and crossed to him. His body was unusually tense when she dropped her hands to his shoulders, massaging them gently. She turned him around herself and was stunned to see the pained expression on his face, eyes closed tightly.

“This is a bad idea, Granger. We shouldn’t do this,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Nonsense,” She replied, bending to pull his sweater over his head. He didn’t stop her from undressing him, but he didn’t help her either. She undressed herself as well, and by that time, it was clear his brain was in discord with his body. She lowered herself in front of him with a smile, and rubbed her cheek against his erection, before taking it in her mouth. He gasped, clutching the arms of the chair and arching up against her.

“God damn it, Granger,” he hissed lowly. Her smile was lost to him.

She teased him on and off for the better part of an hour, but couldn’t encourage him to leave the chair, or take her with an uncontrolled fervor as he had so many times in the past. He clutched at the chair as if his life depended on it.

After looking at him a long moment, she moved up, climbing above of him and slowly lowering herself onto his cock. Malfoy’s face and chest were flushed, and his eyes glittered. His hands moved briefly to her hips as she rocked softly. He moaned and buried his face in her breasts, suckling them deeply, shaping them roughly. 

Finally, he could stand it no more. Draco pushed her off of him and onto the desk, spilling an ink blot and scattering the papers he had there. Then he plunged into her over and over again, until they were both shuddering and clinging to each other.

From there, they moved to the bed, where they languished in taking one another again. When they had finished the second time, Hermione draped herself over Malfoy’s chest and he twisted a lock of her hair between his fingers. Neither of them spoke for a long while. When the doorknob twisted in place, then rattled, Malfoy startled and began to sit up, but Hermione pulled him down again and kissed him. Foot steps faded away, only to return within half the hour. The door rattled again.

“Draco, it’s Pansy!” came a muffled, disembodied voice. Hermione scowled and did her best to ignore it. She knew Pansy was unable to gain admittance. If only she’d go away again. When Pansy’s call went unanswered, she gave a cry of frustration, but disappeared again, and didn’t come back.

 

 

“Harry!” Ron’s concerned face was the first thing Harry saw when he was shaken awake by his roommate.

“What is it, Ron?” He gasped, rubbing his eyes and fumbling for his glasses. 

“It’s after midnight and Hermione never came back,”

“How do you know? She took the invisibility cloak, she could have….”

Ron’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not in her room, mate. Pavarti went for McGongall, and she’s talking to her and Lavender now,”

“Well, Hermione’s a big girl now Ron, she’ll have to look out for herself. There’s nothing we can do if she decides to have a sleepover with Malfoy,”

Ron’s face darkened. “You don’t think he’s done anything to her?”

Harry snorted. “Other than shag the hell out of her?”

“Alright, alright!” he groaned. “No need to get graphic,”

 

 

The two of them had just drifted off into a comfortable sort of sleep, entangled in each other, when the door banged again. The two of them jolted awake. 

“Mr. Malfoy,” The droning voice belonged to Professor Snape, who did not seem amused at this hour. “I suggest that you open this door, and you do so quickly.”

Hermione paled and clutched the sheets to her. But Malfoy gave her a rough shove out of bed, hissing “Get dressed, god damn you!” He removed the silencing charm from the door and called back. “Just a minute, Severus! Er, Professor Snape,”

“Malfoy, now,” He commanded. 

But then came McGongall’s voice as well. “Severus, they’ve already been caught, they might as well be decent when the door opens,” 

Hermione drew the invisibility cloak around herself and winked out of sight. Malfoy had donned his trousers, and pulled open the door. He ruffled the back of his hair, and yawned, feinting sleepiness. “Sorry, is there a problem?”

“Problem?” Snape sneered, strolling into the room. “Only that children at this institution suddenly think themselves adults entitled to break every rule of the whole damned place!”

“Mr. Snape, that is quite enough! McGongall hovered at the edge of the room. “And you, Mr. Malfoy, should cover yourself up,” Draco looked down at his bare chest and smiled sardonically. “I’m sorry Professor McGongall, at this hour I’m usually asleep,” He reached for a shirt and drew it around himself, buttoning slowly. “Are you looking for something?”

McGongall replied “We have reason to believe you may have misconstrued the hour, and might possibly have a guest?”

Snape leered at him. “The Granger Girl,” He jerked open the wardrobe, then used his wand to levitate the heavy bed frame, so that he might examine beneath it.

“Granger?” he scowled. “What in Merlin’s name would I want with that mudblood?” 

“Mr. Malfoy!” McGongall looked horrified. 

“Actually, Draco, we’ve all noticed your sudden infatuation with….things unbecoming of your pureblood status,”

Hermione snorted in disbelief before she could stop herself.

“What was that?” Professor McGongall stepped into the room. “Ms. Granger? Show yourself, or suffer the consequences. If you further dishonor your house by lying, on top of this…shenanigans, I will be forced to remove all house points from Gryffindor.

Hermione slowly lowered the hood of the cloak, the slipped it off her shoulders. Her head hung in shame as McGongall gasped, as if she were surprised. Snape’s eyebrows shot practically into his hairline. Draco smirked smugly and didn’t seem embarassed at all. Then he shrugged. “Looks like she was here all along,”

Snape grabbed Draco by the his shirt collar, lifting him nearly off his feet. “What would your father say!?!” McGongall took Hermione by the upper arm and led her out of the room.

“Goodbye…Hermione…” Malfoy said softly as she crossed the threshold for the last time.

She half-turned with a smile. “Goodbye, Draco,” And then Professor McGongall was pulling her through the common room, lecturing her on appropriate behaviors for young ladies.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Snape dropped his grasp on Malfoy and smoothed the back of his shirt, where it had wrinkled. With a clap on the back, he moved to close the door. “Bravo, Mr. Malfoy. Bravo.” 

 

 

Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses lost 150 points that night. With the upcoming exams, and the extra chores and detentions Hermione and Malfoy received, they didn’t have a chance to see much of each other again before the end of the semester. After the winter holiday, everyone returned to Hogwarts with much anticipation for their final semester before graduation. The long break seemed to chase away the last traces of anything that had ever existed between Hermione and Malfoy; emotions no longer clouded their interactions, and it was back to business, as usual.


End file.
